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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24757642">A Dinner That Was Not</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/LA_Peach/pseuds/LA_Peach'>LA_Peach</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Undertale (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Couch, Edge - Freeform, F/M, OC, Original Character - Freeform, Original Character Insert, Rough Sex, Sex, Tearing clothes, Wine</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 06:08:06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,532</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24757642</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/LA_Peach/pseuds/LA_Peach</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Joan and Edge have sat down to a romantic meal, but something that was supposed to be sappy and romantic quickly falls apart when faced with their usual brand of flirting.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Edge (underfell(/OC Joan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>A Dinner That Was Not</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Joan is not my OC but belongs to a friend of mine. Written with permission. :3</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dinner was laid out but it seemed to be getting very little attention. It all smelled wonderful of course and it was certainly doing it’s darnedest to look appetizing. But try as it may, chicken pesto and pizza could not compete with the flow of wine.</p>
<p>                Joan smiled, she couldn’t help it, even as rage filled her belly as Edge, well-meaning as she was sure he was, reached over yet again to fix the fallen spaghetti strap of her little red dress. Half empty wine glass in hand, Joan placed the tip of one finger against his ribs, pushing non-too gently.</p>
<p>                “Fix my strap one more time, and I’ll gut you.” Her smiled never wavered.</p>
<p>                The lights had been turned down, candles had been lit, red scarves had been draped over lamps. The whole apartment had a lovely atmosphere, practically romantic. (Made better by the take out, neither Edge nor herself had much desire to cook tonight.) It was meant to be a sweet, classic date night filled with longing stares and sweet words.</p>
<p>                But the words out of Edge’s mouth were: ‘Gut me if you can, kitten.” Not sweet at all. Try as they might, they just weren’t… that… kind of couple.</p>
<p>                So what kind of couple were they?</p>
<p>                As the naughty little strap slipped down her shoulder yet again and Joan made no move to fix it, Edge did what he had been doing all evening. His hands, large and pointed, reached out of fix it. Quick as a flash Joan had a steak knife in her own hand, flipped it backwards in her fist and plunged it into Edge’s gut.</p>
<p>                Well, it would have been his gut, if he’d had one. Instead it merely stuck in his leather biker jacket. Edge sneered, his cheeks flushed with anger.</p>
<p>                “I told you, I’d gut you. And I HATE that nickname.”</p>
<p>                Edge worried the knife out of his jacket, regarding the tear it left. “I’ll have to punish you for that, <em>kitten</em>.”</p>
<p>                They had moved closer, neither seemed to have noticed.</p>
<p>                “Punish me?” Joan was breathless, indignant, offended. He could see it in her eyes. Her anger washed over him. “<em>Punish me?</em>” She stood, knocking the table and jostling dinner. The candles nearly fell, their flames snuffing out in the sudden rush. “Damn it, I <em>told</em> you this wasn’t going to work. You can’t keep your damn hands to your damn self!”</p>
<p>                She loomed over the tall skeleton, angry, accentuating her words with a well-placed, poking finger. Edge remained seated, trembling with barely contained anger. “Maybe if you could dress properly, I wouldn’t be so inclined to fix it!” His hands, of their own accord or possibly in his anger, pulled at the hem of her dress that was slowly inching its way up her ample thighs.</p>
<p>                His fingers, sharp as they were (he never could remember how delicate human… uh… everything was) tore right through the fabric. The change in Joan was immediate. She screeched, the hem of her lovely red dress in taters, she tried hard to hold onto it to keep some decency but the dress was having none of that. “This was expensive! What is wrong with you?!”</p>
<p>                The sight was more than Edge could handle. Her voice rang in his skull, he didn’t even hear the words anymore. With an angry growl, he dipped his shoulder into her middle and stood, Joan slung over his shoulder, intending to simply put a stop to her angry yelling. She pounded on his back with her fists.</p>
<p>                He dumped her onto the couch, where shock and rage finally stopped her shouting. Her dress had not fared well in the kerfuffle. It’s already low cut had been pulled lower still, and her bosoms threatened to spill out altogether. They strained against the dress in a most alluring, womanly way. The hem that Edge had so unceremoniously destroyed was still unravelling; he could just see the peek of a panty over those thighs he loved so much.</p>
<p>                “The hell is your problem, asshole?” Joan reiterated, finally pushing through her shock, her chest heaving,</p>
<p>                You know what? Fuck it. Edge fell into her, her body so warm and inviting, his hands found her thighs. He groped, unashamedly, while her face turned beat red and she stuttered over her words.</p>
<p>                “Go ahead,” he teased, his sharp teeth curving upwards in a smile as she gasped. His fingers trailed upwards.</p>
<p>                “You’re impossible.” Joan tried feebly to beat Edge off, but his hands clawed at her, sending little shivers up and down her spine. “You…” She smacked his chest, but it was weak and half-hearted as her head began to feel stuffy. “You… J-jackass…” she swallowed. Her own hands, of their own accord, were tearing at the t-shirt under his jacket, leaving rivulets where her nails couldn’t penetrate the cloth.</p>
<p>                Edge was panting, he could barely form a proper thought. He shuddered as his bones caught the edge of her panties, he reveled in the feeling of its delicate fabric splitting under his claws. The hole he made spread across her flesh, revealing the soft pink of her hips beneath. Damn but he loved her hips. He wasted no time digging a thumb into her crest and feeling her gasp and squirm. Under his thumb he could feel her pelvis moving.</p>
<p>                “My, my clothes,” she breathed without even realizing the irony as she finally got a hold of that t-shirt and gave it a satisfying pull in either direction, opening it up from top to bottom. A faint red light pulsed form inside his rib cage.</p>
<p>                The tear sparked a growl from Edge, he didn’t even register the hard ache in his pants as his cock formed and strained against his jeans of its own accord. Like an animal, he pressed against Joan’s mound, bits of panty still clinging to her flesh.</p>
<p>                Her head was a blur, the world stopped existing, nothing but the sounds of her own gasps reached her ears. He bit her hard on the neck, she responded by pressing his skull in closer, the pain failing to scare her and only forcing her further into her stupor. Her dress, pushed to its breaking part, seemed to fall to shreds between them, her breasts heaving and nipples perky in the sudden air.</p>
<p>                A tongue, dark red and shining slipped from between Edge’s teeth. He didn’t recall forming it, but he filled Joan’s mouth in a deep, ravenous kiss, pressing yet closer to her still. Some part of him tried to be gentle, tried to hold back on a flesh and blood creature so much more delicate than himself, but he couldn’t stop his hands groping at her breast any more than he could stop the uncontrollable bucking of his hips.</p>
<p>                Even now through a layer of denim, she felt amazing. Her pussy was wet and dripping, making the front of his pants wet. Just as he thought he had had enough, desperate to remove the last remaining layer between them, he heard the clink of a belt buckle as Joan’s hands fumbled to release him.</p>
<p>                She only had a moment, as his member popped free and his jeans slid down his femurs, to hold his cock in her hand before he lunged forward yet again, seeking the softness of her womanhood. Their lovemaking was frantic, powerful, and unmatched. Joan squealed as he entered her, wrapped her fingers around his ribs and pulled him close, feeling him shift and move against her chest and stomach.</p>
<p>                Legs spread as far as they could go, opened up to him like a naughty flower, he claimed her. He fucked her. One hand slipped under her thigh, holding it up for slightly better access. His pelvis ground against her clitoris, her labia sucked at his cock, every moment he thought he might be released from her womanly magic she pulled him back in. He wanted more.</p>
<p>                More. He snatched her hands away from his ribs, forced them up above her head, held them against the couch. Her breasts bounced ever so alluringly with his thrusting. She was screaming. His tongue lolled out of his mouth, dripping between them, getting them both slick with his own saliva.</p>
<p>                Then, <em>it</em> happened. That most glorious thing that flesh creatures did. Joan spasmed, rolls of hard trembles waving through her body. A thing she couldn’t control, a thing he caused. He felt her tightened almost painfully around his cock as she came, her breath frozen in her chest, her eyes glossed over. The feeling of her, of her deep secret treasure, tightening just for him, pushed him over the brink.</p>
<p>                Grunting, coming, and shaking, the two remained locked together in an animalistic embrace. When finally Edge had the peace of mind to remove himself, he was followed by large globs of his own seed. He watched, Joan’s hands still trapped above her head with his strong hand, mesmerized, so see it all come spilling out of her.</p>
<p>                Their meal, untouched, lay on the floor where it had been kicked aside. Wine covered the carpet. Edge smiled impishly. “At least I don’t have to worry about that dress strap anymore.”</p>
<p>                Joan slapped him. </p>
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